Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

* * * * *
Don't tell me who I should be.
And don't try to tell me what's right
. Don't tell me what I should do!
I don't want to waste my time.
I'll watch you fade away.

Simple Plan ~ Shut Up
* * * * *

"I told Voldemort."

Silence. The portraits stopped feigning sleep, McGonagall's jaw clenched tight, and Harry held his breath.

"You did what?" McGonagall asked, her voice so even and icy that Harry felt a tad bit frightened.

"I told Voldemort the Prophecy," he repeated, wishing that he had started at the beginning of the story instead of jumping to the end. "He wanted to chat tonight, so he dragged me into the neutral zone. We chatted; he decided to search my mind. We fought over it, but he's still so much stronger than I am. He got in, I tried to keep him from anything important or personal, but he got in that deep. He really wanted information about Ravenclaw's Weapon, and I knew that was well hidden, but—" Harry broke off of his babbled story to try and still his shaking hands. It had been so similar to his stay in Malfoy Manor that it had brought up many forgotten memories from those weeks.

Looking at his shaking hands, Harry tried to make her understand. "It's a mind rape, Professor," he said. "And I knew giving him the Prophecy would get him out, would make him happy for a time. I know you told me not too, but—" He felt the shaking start to spread to the rest of his body. He shut his eyes focusing on clearing his mind and calming his frayed nerves. "I didn’t want him in there seeing things he has no right to see. I'm sorry I disobeyed you, but I'm not sorry for what I did."

McGonagall went to sit on her armchair and Raibere Bruice, her kneazle, meandered out from under the couch to occupy her lap. Harry stayed where he was, sitting in the chair before her desk. He watched as she bowed her head, one hand absently stroking the kneazle's fur.

"I understand," she finally said, her voice weary. "We'll have to hold another Order meeting later today," Harry glanced at the clock on the mantel and saw that "today" was already two hours old, "to discuss how we want to precede with this new development. I'll stand behind you, but you will need to convince them that you did what was best. Or at least, the only option you had."

"Do you think that will be hard?" Harry asked, unsure of how the others would take the news. He turned in his seat so that he could watch her more easily.

"I think that for the majority, what you just told me will suffice," McGonagall answered. "For the rest, I don't know. You did what you did and they will have to accept it."

He shifted his gaze from her, and he moved to stare out the window next to the telescope. The moon wasn't visible but it lit the dark world beyond the castle, aided by the multitude of stars shining with it. The forest was an indistinct black mass that looked like a sleeping monster of some sort from this vantage point. From the Gryffindor Tower, he could always pick out trees, but from here it was impossible. He could see the shadowed shape of the Quidditch stand off to one side, lonely and separated from all the other landmarks of the school.

He turned to lean his back against the window sill and took in the room. The portraits were watching the two living humans with a certain amount of confusion and interest. Dumbledore's picture was looking between the two with something that was akin to guilt. McGonagall's desk was littered with parchments and books, a quill balancing on the top of a closed inkwell. McGonagall herself was still sitting in the armchair, her hand still lazily stroking her pet's dusky gray fur. She was staring into the flames of her fire with a frown on her lips and her shoulders sagging slightly.

Harry knew what that was like, feeling so unprepared for a task. Both he and McGonagall were still floundering after Dumbledore's death. They were staying afloat, but it would have been so much better, so much easier with Dumbledore's guiding hand.

"Are you alright, Headmistress?" he asked, surprising himself. He crossed the room and took a seat on the couch, looking at her with concern. Harry had never been very close with his Head of House, though admittedly he was most likely closer to her than any of his housemates were. She had always kept a level of professionalism that was impossible to break through.

Things were different now. McGonagall and he shared the responsibility of this war in a way Dumbledore and he never had. Thia and Emmeline Vance were the two others in this select group and Harry was a bit intimidated being the only male of the four. The only male and by far the youngest. The only male, the youngest, and the one with the most responsibility. Yet, as the head of the Order, McGonagall commanded Thia and Emmeline, and even in some ways, Harry. She helped organize the Ministry's actions, the Aurors' actions, the Order’s actions, and Harry's training into a fully developed and successful strategy to win the war. Only Harry's Prophecy elevated him above Emmeline and Thia.

It wasn't like they were alone, but, yet, they were. No one else could understand just how much orchestrating a war could take out of a person. It would be easy to lose sight of one's humanity doing it. That was why McGonagall looked so exhausted. There was so much to do and so much to sort through and so much to put together and so much to accomplish that it was hard to remember to keep perspective. No wonder Dumbledore appreciated socks and telling off-colored jokes at Opening Feasts; that was human.

All of these thoughts passed through Harry's head rather quickly, though he could tell McGonagall was weighing her answer carefully. He hoped she wouldn't lie to him. She needed to talk, that was plain, and there was only so much that talking to portraits would accomplish. She may still wish for the properness of a headmistress/student relationship, but he understood what she was going through. Maybe she would "let her hair down" just this once.

"I suppose lying to you is pointless," she finally said. "You've learnt to be observant, between Thia, Severus, and Kingsley it's not hard to figure out how. I really don't know how Albus did this," she waved her hand back at her desk, "without ever sharing the difficulty with anyone. Maybe he and Aberforth talked, but from the way Aberforth has gone back into the woodworks, I'm not too sure. Maybe living through three Dark wars taught him tricks that I can't ever hope to learn. I wish he was here."

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a sigh and the quickest possible glance at his portrait. "I want to tell the public about the Prophecy. I'm hoping they'll react the same way Voldemort did and lay off for awhile."

"You could have waited to tell me with the rest of the Order."

"I know, but I thought I should warn you," he replied, looking at the fire. "I don't want to cause too many problems and it's best if you're forewarned."

"We'll see what the others say," she said keeping her voice indifferent. "Have you thought through your reasons for sharing? Beyond the distraction tactic?"

"Slightly," he said, turning to look at her. He stood. "Well, I'd better be off. Goodnight, Headmistress."

"Goodnight, Harry."

"You did what?" Hermione asked over breakfast the next morning, gaining the carefully deflected attention of their classmates. The four had been whispering, Harry telling them about what happened after he had left for the Order meeting. Finishing his tale, Hermione's reaction was the only verbal one. Ron looked worried, upset, disturbed, and a bit confused by the whole tale. Ginny held his hand under the table, squeezing it throughout the story to remind him that she was there in the present with him.

But, that carefully constructed privacy was gone as the other Gryffindors around stared questioningly at them. Harry glared at Hermione and then turned to the others.

"What happened?" Neville asked.

"Nothing," Harry lied. He saw the hurt on Neville's face, but there was no way that he could tell another person about the Prophecy without the Order's permission, or at least, before they found out about Voldemort. And that other person should not, really could not be Neville. "Look, I'm sorry, I can't tell you guys about this."

"You can tell them," Dean said bitterly, looking at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

"Yes, because they already know," Harry answered. "Because they're my best friends and girlfriend. I can't tell you until I'm allowed, alright. The more people who know a secret the more likely it'll get out."

"No point in protecting it anymore," Hermione said, her voice even more bitter than Dean's. Ron looked at his fiancée with surprise and Harry joined in with him. "After all, you told Voldemort."

"You told Voldemort but you won't tell us?" Seamus asked, hurt as well.

"Damn it!" Harry swore, surprising the others with his anger. "I didn't want to but it was the only option I had, alright? I want to tell you guys but there isn't a reason I can think of that's any where similar to getting Voldemort's tainted mind out of mine. And, Hermione, I thought you were okay with me telling Voldemort."

"I understood why you wanted to," she replied. "I don't think that was the best way to go about it, especially if the—" She broke off before she could say something about the Order. "Especially since you were told not to." Their classmates looked at the four with confused looks, having caught the change.

"I know," Harry replied, his free hand going through his hair with a comforting familiarity. "Trust me, I wouldn't have chosen to tell him as a bribe to end him sifting through my memories. That's not something I had ever wanted to go through again, Hermione, and this time I wasn't going to let him gain access to memories I don't want him to know. If that means I have to bribe him, than I'm going to. He wasn't pleased with the knowledge, and I'm glad he’s preoccupied with something that won't hurt me more. I—I don't even want to know what he'd do with the one memory he did get his filthy hands on." He paused, trying not to shudder at the thought of Voldemort seeing Ginny snogging him senseless. "Look, I'm going to my office. Later."

He swung his bag over his shoulder, kissed Ginny on the cheek, and left the Great Hall. He knew Hermione was still upset about her parents' deaths, and he didn't blame her at all. He knew that grief, and probably a bit of guilt, could make a person contrary and obstinate. He'd been in Hermione's shoes often enough that he knew he shouldn't have taken her words at face value.

He threw his book bag onto the empty chair in his office and walked to the window. He had a view of the greenhouses and the vegetable patch. It looked like Professor Sprout had first years first this morning, judging by the small forms walking toward the greenhouses.

He shouldn't have snapped at any of them. In their place, Harry would have been pissed about Voldemort knowing something he didn't about his friend. It wasn't like he didn't want to tell them, he just didn't want to do more to piss the Order members off. And the tone of Hermione's last statement hurt.

She hadn't used that "I-know-it-all-and-I'm-going-to-shove-it-in-your-face" tone on him for so long. He couldn't remember the last time, it had been that long. It made him feel small, stupid, and misunderstood. Normally, he wouldn't have let it bother him, but this was different. They just didn't get what it was like having Voldemort sift through your memories, viewing things you wouldn't share with anyone else, not even your best friends.

Well, Ginny might understand, but even that—Tom Riddle at the age of sixteen wasn't the monster he turned into. But she was the only one at the table this morning who had any idea of what it was like having Voldemort sifting through your memories. Hermione hadn't even gotten through the first page of Legilimency for the Sages before she had given it up. She knew on an intellectual level how horrible it was, but no further. She didn't know on a real level, and thankfully she didn't know through experience.

So why was he so angry?

It didn't make sense that he was this angry at her. So angry he had to leave the table before he repeated his past mistakes. It just didn't make sense.

There was a knock on the door and a first-year Hufflepuff entered at Harry's encouragement. He sighed, and moved his book bag so the first-year could sit. Taking his own seat, Harry listened as the little girl pleaded with him, trying to get him to reverse a punishment Professor Hooch had given her during flying lessons. He would have to figure out what had happened with Hermione later when he had time to think about it.

Harry finished explaining to the Order why they were back so soon after the last meeting, and he waited with his breath held securely inside. Remus and Tonks, as normal, sat across from him. They were carrying on a silent conversation, though Harry could see the anger and fear in Remus' eyes. Thia was next to Remus and she had her head in her hands, her brow knit in thought, and she seemed to be frowning, but it was hard to tell. Minerva sat at the head of the table next to Thia, and she sat with her face clear of all her thoughts. Emmeline sat next to Minerva, across from Thia, and she too seemed deep in thought.

Aberforth sat on Harry's left and he was staring at his brother's portrait though Harry would bet that he wasn't really seeing it. Kinglsey was on Harry's other side, and the black wizard was obviously thinking about something though his face didn't betray what. The Weasleys filled out the rest of their side of the table, and Harry could almost feel Mrs. Weasley's concern from the far end. The only other person Harry cared about, or at least his opinion of what happened, sat a few seats from Tonks. Harry couldn't make himself look at Severus, though.

Everyone was talking, several conversations going on at once. Harry listened carefully, picking up on different comments. No one seemed to be all that pleased about what he had revealed.

"What good is teaching him Occlumency if he can't protect the Prophecy?" Moody asked, his displeasure complete.

"Were we not clear?" Condon Flint asked from his seat next to Severus. "Did he not understand that 'Don't tell Voldemort' meant not to tell him?"

"Took it upon himself to make the decision, even when his elders and betters told him not to," Elphias Dodge wheezed out.

"Obviously letting him into the Order was a bad idea," Sturgis Podmore added.

"We'll have to plan on how to minimize the damage now," Emmeline said slowly. "It is too bad that Harry wasn't able to keep it a secret, but now that Voldemort has it, we'll have to plan accordingly."

"Severus," McGonagall said suddenly, causing everyone to cease their whispered conversations and either look at her or Severus. Harry kept his eyes firmly on McGonagall, still unsure of whether he wanted to see the disappointment on the other wizard's face. "You're awfully quiet on this topic. Normally you're the first to criticize Harry's performance."

"I see no need to criticize what happened last night," Severus answered, and Harry's head snapped around to look at the other. "He did everything as he should, and trading the Prophecy for peace of mind was a brilliant tactic. Most Slytherin of him. I do not fault Harry at all." The Order members were silent for a space of time, but it was short lived.

"Slytherin of him! Bloody coward of him!" Moody shouted.

"Who's side are you on?" Dodge asked, his tone of voice making it clear where he thought Severus' loyalties stood. Severus remained motionless and silent, not letting their accusations bother him.

"Maybe you're teaching's at fault, Snape," Fred said, standing up to lean across the table in anger.

"Stop it!" Harry said, shocking everyone into silence. "He's on our side, so there's no need to question that. I don't ask you which side you're on, do I? Severus was the only reason I was able to keep it from him as long as I did. He's been a brilliant teacher, Fred, so leave him be."

"Harry did everything right," Severus continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "He shored up his defensive walls, but the Dark Lord is the best Legilimens alive. It would be impossible to keep him out forever, and in Harry's case, the scar link makes it even harder. He assured that everything dangerous was buried deep in his memories and then lined up inconsequential memories for Dark Lord to sort through. Considering the time that had pasted from the end of the Order meeting to when he came to Minerva, I would have to venture a guess of—at least—three hours' worth of memories being presented to the Dark Lord. I could not have done that; I have not endured that.

"I do not want any of you to ever put Harry down for what happened last night. You have not had the displeasure of having the Dark Lord in your mind viewing personal memories. I would not wish it on my worst enemy. Having the Dark Lord sully one's memory, changing what you hold most dear into what you fear most is not something any of you would be able to understand. Considering the other option, having Harry live through something as destructive as his captivity last summer and being driven mad by it, I would think you would all be grateful that he made it out intact."

"He would have been able to break away eventually," Moody said gruffly.

"No," Harry said. He kept his voice soft so that the tremble wouldn't come out. "I wouldn't have gotten out until Voldemort tired of me. Once he got past the last defenses, he was in until he chose to leave. I'm no match for him as a Legilimens or an Occlumens."

"Ravenclaw's spell is a Legilimens' spell though," Flint said. "If you can't match the Dark Lord, than we have no chance."

"Not necessarily," Severus said, his voice disdainful. "You finish your translation and I will be the judge of that. Battle between Legilimens hardly ever progress to what happened to Harry last night. That was a battle between a Legilimens and an Occlumens. Only Professor Dumbledore would have stood a chance in such a fight."

"What about you?" Thia asked curiously as she looked down the table at him.

"I only had to mask select memories," Severus replied. "The little doubt he had of me was nothing to cause him any worry, and I had enough hatred to cover my true feelings. He only wanted to see what he expected, and I became very good at giving him that."

"I am sorry that I gave it to him after you decided I shouldn't," Harry said. "It was the only option I had."

"I think it was for the best," George said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. Fred was staring at him with his jaw dropped. "It's not like you gave Voldemort the information to help him. What you said last night is probably right, anyway. Voldemort will probably wait a bit to process this information before making another move."

The rest of the Order was silent for awhile. Harry looked at Tonks and she smiled at him, almost an apology of sorts. Remus smiled as well, and Harry was sure that it was an apology. The worry, concern, and fear in those eyes were too much for him, so he looked at Thia. She was thoughtful, one of her arms propped on the tabletop, and that hand rubbing her forehead as if it hurt.

"I want to tell my friends now," Harry ventured after he decided that enough time had passed. "They were right chuffed that I had told Voldemort something that I couldn't tell them. And they're right. They deserve to know, though I doubt it'll change much. But, I want it out. I don't want this secret anymore. Who here actually knows the full wording of the Prophecy?"

McGonagall, Thia, Remus, Tonks, Bill, Molly, Fred, George, and... that was it. The only people who nodded letting him know that they knew. Not even Severus.

"Well, that's changing right now," Harry said and recited the Prophecy. They were silent; it was the only reaction Harry ever expected to get to the wording. "Now, please, let me tell my friends. This is too much to keep for so long."

"I think," Vachel said, "we'd be best letting this information out. I think its time for an interview with Harry and his friends."

"Harry?" McGonagall asked, looking at him, treating him as an equal. What was so different about today that she treated him like that? Why couldn't he have gotten this respect yesterday?

"I'm fine with it," he answered with a shrug. "As long as I can tell my friends before."

"Who do you mean by friends?" Emmeline asked.

"My year mates, particularly the other Gryffindors," he answered. "Though, really, I'll want the D.A. to know from me before they read it. I want to tell my closer friends sooner though, especially those Vachel wants to interview." There was a fierce discussion but Harry was relieved that in the end they agreed to his terms. After that, they discussed what they thought Voldemort would do with this information and how to get ready for these actions. They had several very fluid plans in place, but until they knew more there wasn't anything else they could do.

The meeting ended, and everyone left the Headmistress's office. At the bottom of the staircase, Harry called after Thia and Severus. Remus and Tonks followed as Harry led them to an empty classroom. Once inside the unused room, Harry turned to Severus.

"Thank you," he said. The older man bowed his head in acceptance. "I just was wondering, has Draco made any attempts at contacting the Order?"

"None," Thia said. He looked at her carefully and tried to keep a frown off his face. There was still a pale tinge to her skin and Harry hadn't seen her smile since they'd released her from St. Mungo's on Thursday. Whatever curse had hit her was leaving a horrible taint on her. The healers said she'd be fine, given a few days and some laughs, and Harry believed them. But until those days passed, he was worried for her. It was odd, seeing her like this. "He's completely Voldemort's now."

"Did we—?"

"No," Severus said firmly, cutting Harry's question off before it could form. "He was only his own damnation. He acted in that way betting on a second chance. Only Professor Dumbledore would have given it, had Draco truly been sorry. The rest of us, he should have known we would not have forgiven him. We sent him to Azkaban; he'll be out for revenge now. After that, who knows?"

"Who knows what he'll consider revenge," Thia said, shrugging dismissively. "You shouldn't be worrying about escaped Death Eaters. Leave that to us Aurors."

"Yeah," Harry said, his voice dull.

"Do not go there, Harry," Severus said forcefully. "Just do not." And he swept away, forcibly reminding Harry of the "greasy git of a vampire" every first year Gryffindor was positive he was.

"That man knows how to mince words," Tonks said, her voice trying to lighten the mood in the room. She turned to Harry with a smile. "How 'bout you come by our suite and you can see Caitlan?"

"I wish I could, but I have a Potions essay that needs a read through and I need to practice some for Druce's lessons," Harry said, thoroughly sorry he couldn't. "Not to mention I promised to look over Neville's defense essay."

"Another time then," Remus said, clapping a hand to Harry's shoulder. "Remember to relax."

"I will," he said with a small, sly smile. "I'm hoping Ron goes to bed early tonight."

"I'm sure you are," Tonks said, openly laughing and winking at Harry conspiratorially.

"Maybe Thia can go instead," Harry said, as the four left the room.

"I have to go read some reports and issue some orders and if it isn't tomorrow yet, I'll sleep," she answered wearily. "If it is tomorrow, I have a meeting at nine with Ministry officials that I can't miss."

"Bummer," Harry said, realizing that Thia had to have a schedule just as rough as his. They came to an intersection in the corridors. Thia would continue forward and down the stairs and out the castle doors. Remus and Tonks would turn left and head to the guest corridors where they lived. Harry said goodnight and turned right, taking a staircase up to the fourth floor. He'd have to wander a bit, but eventually he'd make it to the Gryffindor Tower from here.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione said, surprising Harry out of his thoughts as he passed her, Ron, and Ginny in the common room. Instead of heading up to bed as he had planned, he paused next to the couch and looked at her, stunned. His tired mind couldn't figure out what she had said. Why was she saying sorry?

Oh, for breakfast, right.

He smiled at her, letting her know he accepted it as it was. He felt a bit guilty about avoiding everyone during Transfiguration and Potions, but he hadn't felt settled enough to sit with them. Harry really didn't want a repeat from last month and lose his temper like that again. Did he stop longer and talk or continue on to sleep after his wandering?

It had been nice, wandering the castle after hours, pretending to be patrolling so no one would stop and ask him what he was up to. Because, to put it simply, he'd just been wandering. Hogwarts, at night, was peaceful. It was a cold peacefulness until June, but it was wonderful nonetheless.

He hadn't wandered for the pure pleasure of wandering in a long while. He'd gone walking and the castle had led him to Remus and Tonks' suite a few times, but that was different. He had no conscious memory of those walks; he had been too busy thinking at the time to notice.

Tonight was just meandering through the halls that had become his home, learning new twists and turns that he hadn't found before. Hogwarts was amazing at night and always had surprises to show those who cared to learn.

"You alright?" Ron asked, staring at Harry hard.

"Yeah," he replied. "They gave me permission to tell the rest of my friends. I'll do that tomorrow. And then Vachel wants to interview me and whoever else I've told. Well, maybe not everyone. Who knows? And before the article is published, I'll tell the D.A. because they deserve to know before the general public."

"Go to bed, luv" Ginny said, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him under his ear, the touch feather-light. "You're babbling. And, Ron, don't say a word, I've had to put up with you and Hermione all but snogging for almost a full hour."

"Night, Gin," he said, turning to kiss her goodnight properly. They broke apart and Harry started to walk to the boys' dorm. Before he'd gone more than four steps, he stopped and turned back. "Hermione, I'm sorry for snapping. I had a really bad night last night. I haven't felt like I was at Malfoy Manor again like that for months. Sorry."

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said, a ghost of a smile gracing her lips. He smiled in reply, and went to bed.

"Alright," Harry said, looking at those around him apprehensively. They were out by the Lake, sitting under the beech tree. Neville and Sephra were trying to convince the Giant Squid to reach a tentacle out of the water and grab a stick. Blaise was standing near them, watching, a content look upon his aristocratic face. Dean and Seamus were chuckling over whatever Lavender and Parvati had just said. Luna was watching all eight of them with a look of dreamy concentration that actually frightened Harry a tad bit. What did she see when she looked like that?

The other eight looked up at him, a combination of his Gryffindor roommates, those who had been at the Department of Mysteries with him, and the only Slytherins Harry would ever fully trust in his year. The eight he would tell the Prophecy to, if only he could find the words.

How should he go about telling them that he had to kill or be killed? And how should he handle Neville's possible involvement in it all?

Harry wasn't sure.

"What's this about, Harry?" Blaise asked, his eyes looking down at where Harry sat with his back to the beech tree. Ginny rested comfortably in his lap, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Hermione and Ron sat near each other a foot or two away, watching him carefully. They'd been there, all of them, for almost fifteen minutes now.

"Remember that thing I couldn't tell you guys yesterday?" Harry asked, looking at the Gryffindors. They all nodded. "I've discussed it with some others, and they've agreed that I can tell you. You just have to promise two things."

"And that's what?" Sephra asked. Such a Slytherinly thing to do, waiting to know the promise before making it.

"One, you can't discuss it outside of this group until it's made public," he stated. "Two, if Vachel Mente wishes to interview you about it, you agree. I'd appreciate it if you say flattering things about me, but I won't require you to lie like that."

"Why would you go public about it if you don't want us to talk about it?" Parvati asked, her face kind of scrunched up in a perplexed way.

"I do want it out," Harry assured them. "My... friends...want it to wait for the article. I guess, if one of you really didn't want to be interviewed, it wouldn't matter much." He fell silent and tore a piece of grass up by its roots. He felt a bit sad as he realized that he had just taken the small life. Stupid Theory of Greats. Made him think of things like that.

"Any day, Harry," Dean said impatiently. "We're missing supper right now."

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered. "I guess I’ll just say it."

"Why don't you tell the story leading up to it?" Hermione suggested.

"I guess," he said, his eyes losing focus as he stared at a spot over the Lake. "The winter or spring of the year I was born, Dumbledore was interviewing a witch for the position of Divination professor. She had taken a room at the Hogs Head and he had gone down to talk with her. The interview went awful, and the Headmaster had decided to drop the class entirely, when she went ridged and said the following:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.

"A Death Eater overheard the beginning of the Prophecy, before Aberforth kicked him out. So Voldemort only knew up through 'the seventh month dies' and no more. Dumbledore knew he had heard a real prophecy and hired the witch as much for her protection as for respect of her skill. Actually, I've since learnt that one of the Dead used her as a medium to get his say across, so who knows if she's a real Seer or not. Heck, who knows what a real Seer is?"

"What happen to her? She would have been fun to learn from," Seamus said.

"Still here," Harry said with a wane smile. "If I hadn't seen her give a prophecy my third year, and then seen it come true, I don't think I'd believe it."

"Trelawney?" Dean asked surprised. Parvati and Lavender gave the group superior looks.

"It's why Dumbledore wouldn't let Umbridge throw her out," Harry said with a nod. "Voldemort would not be nice if he caught her."

"That could have been me," Neville said, stunned and, Harry thought, a bit horrified. "I'd hate me if I were you."

"Why?" Harry asked surprised. He couldn't even dream of hating Neville.

"Because, I got out of it," Neville responded. "You're the one marked and I'm not."

"Trust me," Harry said earnestly, "when that prophecy was made, the person really giving it knew that Voldemort would pick me. But, giving Voldemort that choice made it a genuine prophecy, so to speak. They're only valid if the people involved accept them."

"Why did you?" Sephra asked stunned that anyone would.

"I had found out right after Bellatrix Lestrange killed my godfather," Harry responded, his eyes focused on Ginny's thumb as it rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. "Voldemort and his followers have taken so many loved ones from me that I wouldn't be able not to fight in the war. He believes in the Prophecy to some extent, which means he'll always be after me. I can run and hide, but that'll just drag the war on. So I'll fight. It's just the way I am."

"That's the Prophecy, huh?" Dean said after a slight pause.

"That's it."

"Almost a let down," Dean said, his black brow wrinkled in thought. "I kind of expected lightning and thunder and fire falling from the sky somehow. Something more dramatic. You really didn't tell us anything new."

"I don't know how you kept this to yourself," Lavender said, picking a small daisy she'd made to grow and began to twirl it between her fingers. "I would have exploded."

"I told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny after Halloween sixth year," he answered, forcibly reminded of the little girl Mary as Lavender started to pick more flowers. She started making a daisy chain, almost thoughtlessly. "At Christmas I told the Weasleys, Grangers, Remus, Tonks, and Thia. Well, Thia and Remus knew already because my parents had told them."

"Your parents knew?" Parvati exclaimed, almost horrified by that thought.

"It's why they went into hiding," Harry explained.

"That's gawdawful," Seamus muttered. "Knowing that about your kid."

"It's why Bellatrix Lestrange went after my mum and dad," Neville said suddenly. "Of course! Voldemort went to the Potter's because of this. They die, Voldemort is gone, and Harry's alive. Lestrange knows something, but not everything, but the names Potter and Longbottom are ingrained in her head. They plan for a year and a half, almost two, and then spring the attack once people have been lulled into a false sense of security. It makes sense!" There was a note of triumph in Neville's voice, something Harry had never heard like that. Luna smiled over at her boyfriend, celebrating in his victory. "I've never understood. No one understood why they were targeted, not really."

"Must be nice, knowing that," Dean commiserated. Only one thing could be worse than knowing you were the cause of your family's death, and that would be not knowing why. Harry and Dean had talked about it one night, after everyone else had fallen asleep. It was something they had in common that they hoped none of their friends would ever know.

"Yeah, you've no idea," he replied, a deep sadness settling on him.

"So, what's this power?" Seamus asked thoughtfully.

"I can't say," Harry answered. "The fewer people who know the better the chances that it stays secret."

"So, you know something You-Know-Who doesn't?" Parvati asked.

"Hope so," Harry said with a small smile. "It'll suck if he does know it."

"At the most he'll only know the name of it," Hermione said with a firm voice. "He won't know anything beyond that because he doesn't believe in it. You know that, Harry."

"Sorry, I guess I can't make a joke," he replied sullenly.

"Not about that," Ginny told him, giving his hand an extra squeeze. "I know you like to deal with it by laughing at it, but it's harder for us." Harry shrugged uncomfortably, wishing the others wouldn't look at him like that. Looking at him as if to say his death would be the end of their worlds. He didn't deserve a look like that and there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd end up dead anyway. He didn't want their worlds to end if he should die.

"So," Lavender said slowly, her eyes scanning the grounds and castle, as if she was trying to find a topic. "You really the godfather to Professor Lupin's daughter?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, thankful for the change in topic. "Since Wednesday."

"That's pretty neat," Sephra said, smiling brightly.

"It is," he agreed. "Caitlan is the cutest little thing in the world."

"You're just partial," Dean teased.

"Maybe," he said with a laugh. "But I know what I see."

"How's she dealing with the transformation?" Lavender asked.

"Better than they expected," Harry said sadly. It wasn't fair that she had to go through that. "I think it helps that Remus is with her on the full moon and right after." The others were silent, Sephra and Neville going back to teasing the Giant Squid. Parvati joined Lavender in daisy chain making, bedecking Dean and Seamus in their creations.

"Wonder if they'll catch any of the escapees soon," Seamus wondered aloud.

"I doubt they will," Harry replied to Seamus' half question. "They'll be well hidden except when attacking and creating havoc."

"I'm just glad Professor Black is all right," Lavender said.

"Wonder what Malfoy will do," Ron muttered. "He used to be our spy."

"Really?" Parvati asked. "Why'd they arrest him then?"

"A spy can only get away with so much," Harry answered. "That potion is like an Unforgivable. Not to mention that even as a former spy, Seve—Snape had no patience for him."

"Guess that sucks for him, then," Seamus said dismissively. "That group makes me sick," he said after a pause. He pointed at Pansy and her gang. "You'd think those Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs would have a bit more respect for themselves and not hang out with them."

"There's a Gryffindor too," Ginny muttered. "One of the girls in my year hangs out with them. Her older brother was a Ravenclaw and her younger sister is a Slytherin."

"Wish the Death Eater slime would stay out of our house," Seamus muttered.

"They've been there from the start," Harry said with a slight frown. Obviously, Seamus hadn't gotten over all his issues. Though, considering who they were talking about, Harry found himself agreeing. "Wonder what they're up to."

"Probably something dark and evil," Ron supplied. "Who cares what the junior Death Eaters are up to? Not me."

"As long as it doesn't hurt anyone, me neither," Ginny agreed. They fell silent again.

"I'm going to go see if there's still food," Neville said, standing up and brushing the grass and dirt off his pants. "If not, then I'm going down to the kitchens. Anyone want to come?" There was a general agreement and everyone got up to start the walk to the castle. Harry watched them go; Ginny was the only one to stay with him.

"Thanks," he said, pulling her to him tightly. It was a wonderful early spring evening. He relaxed his muscles slowly, surprised at how tense they'd gotten over the past forty-five minutes.

"You ready for the robe fitting on Sunday?" Ginny asked, completely ignoring his thanks.

"Yeah, I guess," he answered, screwing up his face even though she couldn't see him. "I'm sure we'll enjoy it."

"Just try to, for Bill," she whispered into his shoulder. "It'll be hard enough with the Best Man switched as it was."

"I'm glad they relented," Harry said. "I can't believe the Order really didn't want us to leave that bad. We aren't even going to be seen outside of Hogwarts."

"You know how they are, though," she replied, snuggling into him. He noticed that it was getting a bit chilly. It looked like a storm was on its way, if the black line across the horizon was clouds. "They like to protect us young ones."

"Yeah, well," he muttered, but left it at that. They both knew what the other thought about that. It wasn't long before Ginny was asleep and Harry sighed contentedly. Letting go of the final knots of worry, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Maybe, sleep would come even if it wasn't particularly restful.

"No, Bill, I'm not putting those on!" Ron exclaimed the next Saturday. He stood looking at the robes Bill was holding.

They'd left for Fred and George's shop over an hour ago, had sat talking with Mina and Melita and their parents for a bit, then walked through a connected door to Mademoiselle Spinnet's Robes for Special Occasions. The Mademoiselle in question was actually Alicia Spinnet, and she had graciously offered her services for Bill's wedding. As an Order member, Alicia knew to keep quiet about Harry's presence, really any of the Weasleys as well. They wouldn't have to walk outside at all, and Harry actually felt a tad bit cheated because of it.

What was a trip to Hogsmeade if you never got to see anything?

At the moment, they were browsing for whatever robes caught Bill's fancy. The pair Bill held now, well, Harry didn't blame Ron. They were similar, if updated a whole lot, to the robes Ron had been forced to wear to the Yule Ball.

"Bloody hell, Bill, don't make me," Ron pleaded with his eldest brother. "Melissa said you had a good eye for this kind of thing! She wouldn't like those!" Bill smiled at him evilly, shaking the robes in a come hither motion. "Bloody hell, Harry's younger, pick on him." When Ron didn't move even a centimeter closer, Bill walked over until they were nearly toe-to-toe.

"But he's not you, Ron," Bill assured him, stuffing the robes into Ron's arms. Harry doubled over in laughter as the eldest Weasley brother maneuvered Ron into a dressing room. "Now, don't make me come in there and undress you."

"Don't you feel loved, Ron?" Fred called from the other side of the shop.

"Your brother chose you over Harry Potter!" George shouted from a corner of the store, hidden behind a rack of Quidditch robes.

"You know, the Boy Who Lived."

"Savior of the Philosopher's Stone."

"Saved Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Traveled back in time with your girl."

"Triwizard Tournament's current champion."

"Number one financial backer of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"The One Prophesied."

"Shut it!" Harry shouted, ending their continuing name slinging. "Excepting the financial backer one, I don't want either of you mentioning any of that crap again. Alicia, why do you have Quidditch robes?"

"Good question, Harry, lad," George agreed, pulling out a replica Hollyhead Harpies uniform.

"Quidditch games are a special occasion," she replied impishly. "At least, they are in my book."

"Good lass," Fred said fondly. The twins had kept in touch with Alicia and Angelina Johnson since the four had left Hogwarts. In fact, if Harry was to understand right, Fred and George had given Alicia the loan for her business and gotten her the lease on this side of the building.

"Think Ginny would like these as an early birthday present?" George asked, looking at the uniform he had pulled out. "They'd fit her, I reckon."

"They'd be prefect for the game in two weeks," Harry agreed. "She's starting to get excited, especially since Terry won't be playing."

"I wouldn't be too sure on that," Alicia said grimly. "Last I heard, that is going to be her first game back."

"Bloody Merlin, I'm going to kill you, Bill!" Ron said, tearing the curtain open on the dressing room. Harry tried valiantly not to laugh, but not even his best efforts were able to keep the chuckle from escaping. The cut of the robes were modern, but they had the same maroon fabric and the slightest trace of lace around the cuffs and edges for trim. "I'll flay you alive."

"Yeah, yeah, you've been saying that for a long time," Bill said, waving his youngest brother off. "Okay, definitely not those. You can change into these instead."

"These for real?"

"These are for real," Bill said, tossing Ron the robes.

"Hey, no tossing the merchandise," Alicia ordered. Harry knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing. Fred and George exchanged one look and then started tossing robes back and forth furiously.

"Here, catch!"

"Go long!"

"Behind the back!"

"Nice!"

"I'm going to gut you both like fish and feed you to the Giant Squid!"

"You've been saying that for years, Alicia," Fred said, pausing in his tossing.

"Forgive us if we don't believe you."

"This'll be the time," she assured them, advancing on Fred who was the closest.

"Now, see here, Alicia," he said, holding his hands up plaintively.

"Really, no need for any gutting to go on," George added, hiding behind the gorgeous dress robes meant for the ladies.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Alicia had her wand out, and it pointed dangerously at Fred's gut.

"We're your devoted friends, classmates, Quidditch teammates."

"Bill?" Fred called, looking at his brother as if he had no other lifeline.

"You need any help, Alicia?" Bill asked, skimming through a rack of robes absentmindedly. The tic, tic of hangers let the twins know just how much Bill could care less.

"No, I've got this handled."

"I've got you!" Fred cried out in triumph. "You and Angelina promised never to gut us without the other!"

"Damn," she muttered, pausing and lowering her wand.

"Bill?" Ron called, coming out of the dressing rooms with a very simple black dress robe on. "This is too funeral-ly."

"Take it off," Bill agreed, his eyes filled with pain.

"Godric Gryffindor!" George called out, looking at the price tag of the Quidditch uniform. "Bit spendy, aren't these?"

"Yeah, the clubs charge me something special to do these," she replied. "They're exact copies, not imitations. I'm the only retailer in Hogsmeade with the rights to England's, Scotland's, Wales', and Ireland's teams. There's two others in Diagon Alley. High demand, low supply, and a helluva a fee for the teams. I have to charge what I charge just to make a twenty galleon profit. Anything less than that and it just isn't worth it for these robes."

"That's my gal," George replied. "Well, Ginny's worth it. Want to go double with me, Fred?"

"Of course," his twin answered. "Bill, what about these?"

Time went by, Ron trying on pair after pair of robes. After the fifteenth or so pair, they finally settled on one of the first pairs Ron had modeled for them. After that, the boys stood on the stools for Alicia as she pinned hems and took measurements. The robes Bill had picked were one of her best selling, so Alicia always had several in.

"Merlin, Harry, stop fidgeting," she complained. "I'm only poking you 'cause you move!"

"Yeah, well, that tickles," he complained right back at her. She was working on the in-seam on the arms and, so help him, it tickled like nothing else.

"He's such a wuss, really, Alicia, you should remember that," George commented from his stool. "When Ginny gets him, oh, that's good."

"Remember two Christmases ago?" Fred asked, laughing. "Ginny wiggled right from his grip and turned the tables on him. I love our baby sister."

"Hard not to," Harry said, his face straight. The Weasley brothers all rolled their eyes, but Alicia smiled up at him.

"You and Ginny all better now?" she asked. "I read about the break-up in Witch Weekly."

"That was in—?" he broke off as his elbow moved right into the way of Alicia's current pin. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, and yes," she replied. "Sounded awful. I was glad when Fred and George told me you two were back together."

"Yeah, it was nice getting back with her," he said, ignoring the red heads. "We're fine. I gave her a promise ring at Christmas, well, she'd already had it, I'd given it to her the Christmas before, but, this time I slipped it on her left hand and promised her that after this whole mess we'd get engaged and...yeah." He stopped babbling as he realized that Ron was no longer standing on his stool but sitting on it, doubled over with laughter. "Go stew your own head, Ron. At least I'm not engaged at Hogwarts."

"Now, now, boys, enough of this," Bill said, taking on his "professor" tone.

"I think you both are lucky meeting your true loves while still at Hogwarts," Alicia said, her eyes going dreamy.

"Yeah, we'd have failed without Hermione," Harry said, purposely misinterpreting Alicia's statement. "I love that girl for every essay she's ever saved from receiving a 'T' and for noticing the trap door first year."

"Though, had she not—" Ron added, taking a deep breath to regain some composure. "If she hadn't we wouldn't have gone after the stone."

"And Voldemort would have come back our first year," Harry continued. "Instead, an eleven-year-old first-year boy bested him. See, I like this much better."

"True," Ron said thoughtfully. "You know on that premise, Hermione's really the one who saved the stone."

"Nah, it was Neville," Harry said seriously.

"Done with you, Harry," Alicia said, helping Harry shrug the robes off. He went into the changing rooms to change back into his school uniform.

"How so?" Ron asked, speaking loudly so that his voice carried to Harry.

"Well," Harry said, returning to the outer rooms. "If Neville hadn't noticed Fluffy, we wouldn't have lived past that room."

"At least Hermione wouldn't have gotten expelled," Ron added. Harry chuckled.

"You three have quite a history," Alicia said, around all the pins balanced between her lips.

"Yeah, best around, really," Harry said with a shrug. "Lot's of adventure, humor, romance, not a dull moment, you know?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a nod. "Though, there'd have better have been no romance between you and 'Mione."

"Well, Ron, there's something we've been meaning to tell you and Ginny," Harry said, his face poker straight. "We've decided we don't ever want to officially join the Weasley clan. Instead, we just want to go off and make our own cute little family of green eyed, bushy haired—"

"Monstrosities," Ron cut in. "After all, you are her brother."

"Cheers," Harry said, laughing. "Glad I didn't have you going like Gin and I did with the eloping story."

"It's something I'd expect from the two of you," Ron said defensively.

"Anyone else feel like we're being left out?" George asked the others who all nodded. Harry obliged them and told the story, the twins laughing the hardest.

"Ron, brother ours," Fred said through his laughs.

"Would you ever even think of eloping?" George asked.

"And deny Mum the privilege of planning and preening and cooking?" Fred continued.

"No!"

"Then why'd you believe them?" Fred asked.

"Harry's worse than us about not hurting Mum's feelings," George agreed.

"That's because he's not stupid to take her for granted," Bill muttered. With that one utterance, the mood in the room dropped to a depressing level. The happy, merry gathering of a groom and his groomsmen was gone, replaced by soldiers in a war who had lost brothers and fathers.

"Merlin, Bill, you had to go and do that?" Ron whined.

"We can't go on with life forgetting they exist!" Bill argued.

"Yeah, but Charlie would've hated you bringing the mood down on his account," Ron challenged.

"I bet Charlie didn't expect to spend the rest of his life as a vegetable in St. Mungo's either!"

"He knew what the risks were!"

"He bloody well thought he was invincible! He bloody played with dragons!"

"The Cruciatus isn't the same!"

"He never thought his girlfriend would betray him!"

"Wait," Harry said suddenly, sitting down on his stool. "Charlie never was hit with the Cruciatus as much as Percy. Didn't Thia say the healers thought there was something off with him?"

"Yeah," Bill said with a nod. "I've gone with Mum to see them, seeing as the Order doesn't want her alone. What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He should have shaved earlier, but those five minutes of extra sleep—Why was he worrying about the pathetic stubble on his chin now? "It's just, Charlie was a strong man, he hadn't been hit with the Cruciatus as often, and the healers are confused about it. What if—What if—" He paused, unsure if he wanted to say it out loud.

"What if his mind closed in on itself," Alicia completed. "If he chose to shut it down instead of giving the information or suffering. Once a person goes insane like that, they aren't of any use. And You-Know-Who does like to leave little—tokens—for the survivors."

"A living memory," Bill said with a nod. "I remember the First War. Not fun at all." He paused, looking down at Harry from the stool he stood on, waiting for Alicia to do the final pins. "You know, I'll mention it to Nancy Nettle the next time I go with Mum. They put her on the case because it is so odd."

"He's got a good healer," Harry said with a small smile.

"You should know," Ron muttered. "Planning anything dangerous so you get to see her? It's been a month now, hasn't it?"

"Shove off, Ron," Harry said, pretending to be angry.

"Maybe Harry's into older witches," George said thoughtfully.

"Wait, I thought he wasn't into witches at all? Wasn't that what we deduced last summer?" Fred asked, causing Harry to laugh once.

"I'd forgotten about the spaghetti dinner," he said, trying to keep the conversation light. "You know, with all the crap that followed."

"Don't blame you," Fred said. "Alicia, would you hurry. We left the girls in charge and I'm afraid they might do something to the shop."

"Lee in London?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, he loves it at the Diagon Alley shop," George answered. Harry continued to listen; all the while he kept his hopes crushed into the ground. No point in letting it take over only to be proved wrong. He'd learnt that with Professor Dumbledore.